


Imperio

by Deriliarch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders, Marauders' Era, Pining, Teen and up is for the cursing...for the moment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 11:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deriliarch/pseuds/Deriliarch
Summary: Sirius thought all he had to worry about in the War was keeping himself and his friends alive. Accidentally confessing his long hidden attraction to one of his best friends in front of the entire Order of the Phoenix doesn't seem like something that should be a big deal when there was a would-be tyrant running wild, but, you know what? It really is.





	1. Sirius Black Regrets Volunteering For This

**Author's Note:**

> Sparked from a prompt post --someone sent "Make out with me." for Sirius and it turned out way longer than expected. This is just post Hogwarts graduation and Wolfstar is NOT established.

Sirius was looking forward to this Order of the Phoenix meeting far more than the last; on the schedule in Alice Longbottom’s cramped lettering announced they were going to be practicing withstanding the Imperius Curse. It wasn’t really that he was  _excited_ to being mind controlled, just more relieved it wasn’t Crucio acclimation again. He still had the remnants of his black eye from where he had thrashed into the doorjamb (He had let no one heal it after it was determined his eye was unscathed; he would never admit it, but he thought it made him look rouge-ish.)

James had admitted himself less than enthused, Peter scared, Lily unexcited, and Remus…tight lipped. Everyone seemed to be lost in their own private anxieties at the thought of giving up their own free will, even to friends, for the atmosphere inside the headquarters was muted and wary. Even after preliminary check-in, war updates, and reminders to have ‘constant vigilance’, there weren’t the characteristic side chats or-–in the Marauder’s case-–back chats that usually accompanied such predictable activities.  _No one’s even died this week that we knew,_ he wondered bemusedly at their subdued attitudes, then stopped as his stomach abruptly soured and twisted. ‘ _That we knew’. Bloody Hell, Sirius…_ God what a mess this was. A fucking mess.

“Volunteers to go first, now.” Moody barked, making Sirius think that maybe he didn’t have such a solid grasp on the definition of ‘volunteer’, as it needn’t have sounded quite that ominous. 

Was there such a thing as a reverse sound–-audible silence? He felt he could hear the fuzzy little edges of dust motes rubbing together if he tried hard enough as everyone stared as hard as they could in opposite directions. Alice found something on her robe that was apparently fascinating; Frank was studying the grains in the chair ahead of him like they were imparting the meaning of life; Lily gazed at a water stain on the ceiling that looked like a beaver.

“ _No_  one?” Moody growled, managing to sound like a hybrid between a disappointed grandfather and an angry bulldog.

Quick glances appraised James as Pale, Peter as Sweating, and Remus as Only Here Physically Not Mentally. Ah well. Dignity became less of a priority when you routinely turned into a dog, ate grass, and had the ability to lick your own gonads. “I’ll go–I just  _know_ you are all  _dying_  to see my gymnastic abilities up close,” Sirius slid out of his chair and into an exaggerated lunge, complete with eyebrow waggle at Lily, who rolled her eyes at him indulgently.

“This isn’t a game, son. Wizards are being-–”

“C’mon, Alastor,” Peter moaned. “I can’t deal with another story like last time; I couldn’t eat fish for a week. Can we please just practice?”

After minimal grumbling, a slightly perkier atmosphere–-especially after James volunteered to be the caster (a little  _too_  excitedly, thank you, James, love you, too)-–and sweeping their chairs into a better viewing circle, it was time. 

James said, “Imperio,” or something, it didn’t matter too much, because Sirius felt  _good_. Like, slept 12 hours, had some firewhiskey, laid back down, out in the sun for a nap good. How long had it been since he felt this good? Too long, he decided as he gazed around the room. Someone was talking but it wasn’t to him, so did it really matter?  _Look at all those nice people,_ he thought happily _, all those smiling faces._

Well, not all, he supposed, Lily looked a little unnerved, so he gave her a smile and a wave, which didn’t seem to help much, so he waved and smiled a more pointedly cause she obviously didn’t see him the first time. She sort of scrunched her mouth a little and wiggled her fingers reluctantly but, you know what, that counted , that was fine, he could work with that! Someone was still rumbling away in the background–-Moody?-–but he was more interested in the nice sunlight coming in the window. It was warm on his face, all the way down to his knee and he closed his eyes against it and leaaaaned–-

 _Let’s stand on one leg,_  drifted amiably through his mind and that sounded like a damn good idea, so he did just that. 

 _Can you spin?_ Well,  _obviously_  he could, and he twirled round twice, just on one foot to be fancy. 

He waited expectantly, feeling a warm smile on his face but no new suggestions came and he hear Moody rumble again. Boooring. Still standing on one leg, he looked over at James, who was grinning broadly at him. Sirius grinned back. James had a nice smile and nice teeth. He was such a good friend. He always made him laugh. Sirius as so happy to be his friend. 

James’ eyes crinkled and he laughed outright, which made Sirius wonder distantly if he was talking out loud? But it didn’t make much difference to him, with this golden effervescence bubbling through his veins taking up most of his attention. He felt like a sunset was happening his his belly, warm and golden-pink and radiating. His gaze wandered over the crowd again and caught on a slim, pale figure in the front row. 

Why was Remus staring at the ground, all white? Was he sick? A tiny ping of concern poked the corner of his hazy cheer, like a thin silver needle. Why did he look–-

Remus’ head came up and Sirius could see clearly in his eyes; afraid. Of what? The clouds in his head were confused, half churning grey with doubt, with worry but the same soothing undercurrent kept trying to sweep them away, making him strangely dizzy. Though that might have been because he was still on one foot. Of  _what_? What was scary here? Sirius felt so nice, what could be scaring Remus?

“No control.” The quiet words came clear as day through the lulling warmth trying to fill him again, half a second behind when Remus’ mouth actually moved. 

Oooooh he under _stood_  now, Remus liked control, being a werewolf and all. He could understand that, Sirius thought charitably, he could sympathize but Remus  _worried_ so much. Remus’ mouth tightened and it made Sirius disappointed-–he had a nice mouth. When he wasn’t looking so  _pursed_ , it looked so soft. Well, he thought it would be soft. Yeah, he had definitely thought about that and how nice his hair would feel. 

And warm, too, the thought drifted across his mind as Remus’ cheeks flushed. It always added nice color to his face when he did that; sometimes Sirius did something outrageous just to get him to blush. It seemed sort of quiet in here…

_What’re you thinking, Padfoot?_

“Oh, right now? ‘Make out with me’.”

Dead silence. The warmth whisked away like a blanket. Standing on one leg in front of a group of people. Including Remus in a very fetching shade of scarlet. 

James  _lost_ it.

Sirius gasped, “YOU FUCKING  _SHIT–!!”_

Next time, someone  _else_ was volunteering.


	2. Sirius Black Really Does Not Want To Talk About This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, confession made, now everything is ruined--pardon? Remus said what?

Sirius’ hands tightened on his book at as he heard the door groan and soft voices of Remus and Kingsley from the foyer. He had left the meeting early after his…admission, begging ill effects from the Imperius Curse and managed to sulk home before either of them.

It was still strange to be in Kingsley’s mansion, just the 3 of them with so much space. Growing up, Grimmauld Place had always been a revolving door of Ministry officials, Death Eaters, and pure-blood socialites meeting with his parents, not to mention the army of house elves for the place–so the echoing silence now was unnerving. He'd gotten used to being surrounded by people at school and James' parents house for holidays. In the wake of the beginning war and their graduation from Hogwarts, Sirius had invited Remus to stay at his modest flat he'd gotten for himself after he'd left home, courtesy of Uncle Alphard's kind investment in him. Like the proud git that he was Remus had refused--stoutly. Repeatedly. Obnoxiously--insisting that he didn't want to burden anyone. James and Lily often bemoaned the size of their house, as they had no room for him and Peter had inherited his mother’s 1 bedroom cottage after she had fled to some other, less tumultuous country. Finally, Sirius had publicly badgered him enough about the whereabouts of his actual, real life living arrangements and found that he had  _not_ gone back to live with his father as he had mentioned vaguely about thinking of doing, but was rather trying to work a Muggle dump job and live in a 'rent by the hour' motel on top of working Order business, which horrified Lily and Sirius for, he felt, very different reasons. 

Sirius had ended up making a big enough fuss about it in front of Moody one day that the grizzled wizard had barked that they all needed to be in top shape in order to be proper soldiers and had set about, rather forcefully, arranging for him to stay with Kingsley. Kingsley had been left a large, empty mansion by his wealthy pure blood family and insisted he was only too happy to have some company, as he had too many empty rooms. It was the crafty phrasing that he would be doing the man a favor, rather than accepting charity or imposing that had finally won over the reluctant Remus. Sirius himself had routinely floated around from house to house, regardless of whether there was room enough, despite the fact that he had a perfectly good bed and flat to himself that was now sitting, unused, for the better part of the few months it had been since graduation. 

Honestly, the idea of living alone in a time where people like his parents were getting everything they had ever wanted terrified him beyond reason; not for himself but for his friends, his family. Lily the Muggleborn, James the Blood Traitor, Remus the Werewolf, Peter the Ill Equipped to Deal With Anything More Threatening Than a Hogwarts Professor and Sometimes Not Even That, Not Naming Any Names, Professor McGonagall. The notion that he had left the fetid, rotting prison of his childhood home, safe from all the Death Eaters though it was, for his own warm slice of belonging that could be destroyed in an instant left him cold. It could happen overnight, while he was sleeping or doing the dishes or going shopping or.... He'd surreptitiously settled mostly-permanently and very comfortably down the hall from Remus in another one of Kingsley's extensive guest rooms without truly asking and without any argument. It had been a lovely, stress relieving haven when he had walked in for the first time.

Now, it just felt like a warren tempting him to try and hide from the inevitable agonizingly uncomfortable conversation Remus would want to have following his brazen announcement. ‘Make out with me’.  _Kill me,_ Sirius tried to telepathically project into his book.  _Papercut me to death, I think it would be less painful than what’s coming._

Footsteps came into the kitchen. It was Moony, though Sirius couldn’t say how exactly he knew that and he held his breath as the footsteps moved over to him. In front of him. Stopped. He heard Remus take in breath to speak and mentally braced himself with a wince.

“We’re out of bread, after this piece. Are you going to run to the store tomorrow, or shall I? Kingsley has patrol.”

It took Sirius a moment to process exactly what had been said and when he did, he blinked at Remus, book drifting down to the counter. “What?”

Remus held up a piece of bread, wafting it’s yeasty goodness over to Sirius, reminding him how long ago lunch had been. “This. Last piece. You get more? Or me?”

The mental whiplash of the prepared awkward confession/rejection scenario he had been bracing for being whisked away in favor of this grocery shopping banality literally left him unable to do anything but stare for a few moments. Remus blinked back at him in seemingly mild bemusement, bread still held aloft between them. 

“Ah…I…I can, I suppose.”

“Alright, good. I have a night scouting mission tomorrow and I wanted to sleep in.” And then, he began puttering around the kitchen, making himself what seemed to be a completely normal piece of toast. Which Sirius thought was just absurd.

“…Erm…did I miss anything? The rest of the meeting, I mean?”

“Not really. More constant vigilance, more scheduling, more death announcements.” He gave a subdued shrug. “The usual. I brought a copy for you, it’s in your coat.”

“…Ah.”

Was he…was he  _pranking_ him? There was no way he could have misheard what he gathered has been a perky rambling of the virtues of Remus’ mouth, hair, complexion, and kissability, which made heat flush from his hairline to his shoulders in stark embarrassment. He had very clearly admitted he was thinking about kissing Remus. Remus had been there. Sirius had, in fact, been looking at Remus at the time. He had turned a charming crimson sort of color.

But here he was… _conversing_. Not even awkward or reluctant or self conscious. 

And this continued to the next day. And the next. Sirius would have been relieved and thrilled if he wasn’t feeling the pinch of rejection. Surely, Remus took him seriously enough to think he warranted a talking to? Not just a let down by ignoring? Sirius was becoming irritated.

It was a full week before he confronted Remus in the sitting room, unable to wait anymore. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The little shit slowly looked up from his book, to his lap blanket, the side table lamp, his book, then back to Sirius before saying, “…Reading?”

“You  _know_  what I’m talking about.”

“Um….”

“Why are you  _ignoring_  me?”

Remus squinted at him through his reading glasses–-his stupid, sexy reading glasses that Sirius would have to do his best to ignore during this serious conversation. “I don’t know what you want from me, Padfoot, I’m talking to you right now.”

Sirius ground his teeth, steeled himself, and dove in. “Do you honestly think what I said isn’t worth talking about?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how far I'm going to go with this fic--it might end after a chapter or 2 with them working it out. It might extend through the War and deal with the loss of their friends and eventual descent into betrayal. I suppose it depends on interest and inspiration, so let me know if you're interested in more!


End file.
